


isn't this what best friends do?

by idleteen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, girl!Zayn, ziall, ziall smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:43:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idleteen/pseuds/idleteen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And Niall can’t leave her, really—seeing Zayn upset is the equivalent to his heart being squeezed between his ribs and he just has to take of her. </p>
<p>[Where Zayn is homesick and Niall just wants to make her feel better.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	isn't this what best friends do?

**Author's Note:**

> self-indulgent, perhaps? that, and a sudden adoration for Niall being completely infatuated with girl Zayn and her pretty little smile.

Niall is sure that the worst part about Zayn being homesick is how _goddamn miserable_ she looks. Her already-full bottom lip juts out even more than usual and her pretty hazel eyes droop like she’s close to sinking into the floorboards. Her tan skin appears a little paler and her smooth dark hair is a little messier and _fuck_ , it’s absolutely ridiculous that a human being can look that unhappy.

Niall can’t stand it, honestly, and finds himself chewing on the inside of his cheek when he finds his best friend in a familiar position on the sofa—the same place she had been sitting three hours ago when he went out with Louis. She’s being swallowed by the fluffy white duvet and staring longingly out the window—perhaps seeing _home_ somewhere along the busy, darkening horizon.

Not wanting to disturb her, Niall gently closes the hotel door behind him—without much success, might he add. Nevertheless, Zayn doesn’t seem to notice and the Irish lad just sighs because perhaps he wanted her to. He kind of loves the attention the raven-haired girl gives him—loves the fact that she’s claimed him as her best friend.

When the band had first been formed and the five of them knew _absolutely nothing_ about each other, Zayn had always been _the quiet one_. Perhaps it had something to do with being the only girl in the group. She had warmed up to Niall though—the way everyone warmed up to Niall—and, even after she grew to love and hate and tease the others, the Irish boy had remained her silent number one.

And Niall can’t leave her, really—seeing Zayn upset is the equivalent to his heart being squeezed between his ribs and he just _has_ to take of her. So he meets his best friend at the lounge chair and climbs on beside her, resting his legs on her lap and causing a little sigh to escape her lips. Niall looks down at Zayn with a smile that she returns half-heartedly—her eyes still doing that drooping thing.

“You alright?”

Zayn nods her head insistently, “Yeah...fine.” And they both know that she’s lying and that she misses her sisters and her mother like mad but, again, Zayn has always been _the_ _quiet one_.

Niall nuzzles his nose against her temple and sets a kiss to the thin skin there. “Homesick?” he murmurs.

Zayn groans in defeat, “Yeah...I’m sorry I’ve been moping around all day, it’s just—well, I seem to get homesick a lot easier than you lot, and it must be fucking annoying.” Her lip juts out even further—if that’s possible—and her eyebrows furrow in frustration and sadness.

“Nah Zayn,” Niall insists, laughing softly and kissing her forehead, “You could never be annoying—you’re kind of perfect, you know.”

And the raven-haired girl just rolls her eyes and hits Niall in the stomach, “Shut up.” And Zayn is known for having the occasional bad temper and mood swings but she never _really_ directs it at the Irish lad—take now, for instance; she’s _smiling_.

So Niall kisses her again to get that smile to grow. It’s on the tip of Zayn’s pretty nose this time and the girl scrunches up her face as she laughs. Niall persists and pecks at the corners of her pink lips and the soft spot on the edge of her jaw until the raven-haired girl is giggling. And Zayn covers her mouth because she kind of hates the sound of her laugh but is quickly over it, rolling her hazel eyes and laughing some more—she doesn’t really give a fuck, anyway.

Niall sighs when Zayn finally cuddles into him—wrapping her arms around his stomach and resting her head on his shoulder. He holds her hand and traces the bird tattoo that so fittingly adorns her skin—his favourite one, for sure. And he recalls the times she has tried to convince him to get a tattoo of his own, but that’s not really Niall’s thing. At that she would often roll her eyes but ultimately admit that she kind of likes the smooth perfection of his body—she might just be heartbroken if he _actually_ decided to change that.

“Mm,” Zayn hums, “You’re kind of spectacular, you know. Like, you make me feel better.”

The Irish boy tries to suppress a smile but his heart is swelling with joy and he wonders when he began getting such satisfaction from pleasing his best friend. “Well, I’d compliment you again, but I’m afraid you’ll hit me.”

Zayn laughs and pats his stomach lightly, quickly transitioning into running her fingers over the skin there. It feels nice—the way she’s so gentle and loving and completely _not_ as you’d expect her to be. Niall figures it could lull him to sleep—that is until her hand slips beneath his shirt and repeats the pattern on his bare skin.

Niall fidgets, “Tickles.” And Zayn just sighs into his collarbone and continues the action regardless—her eyes drooping a little more as the minutes progress.

“Hey,” the Irish boy mumbles, leaning in to kiss his friend’s cheek but accidentally planting his lips on hers instead. It’s a surprise at first but they don’t hesitate to melt into it. It’s not like this is the first time this happened—honestly, they’ve been sharing hotel rooms for about three years now. Niall’s not sure if it means anything besides a few lazy kisses between friends, but he tries not to over think it.

And Zayn is still sad so Niall keeps kissing her. He figures—if nothing else—a few lightheaded kisses will make her smile, and he’ll take what he can get. Zayn always starts out soft but never ends that way, and she’s quick to lick her way into Niall’s mouth. The Irish boy lets her— _of course_ —and moans a little too loudly when her tongue sweeps across his lower lip before her teeth clamp down on the same spot. Zayn is all teeth sometimes and, by the way she laughs against his lips at his moan, he’s sure she’s aware of how much he doesn’t mind.

Zayn shifts—shoving the duvet away—until she’s more-or-less straddling Niall, clamping her knees around his frame. She initiates the kiss this time and encourages the Irish boy’s hands when he places them on her hips. Her tan fingers snake around his pale ones and slide them up beneath her shirt, letting go once she’s satisfied. And Niall is nothing but awkward limbs and eager lips when it comes to his best friend, and Zayn is constantly rolling her eyes and insisting that he shouldn’t be afraid to touch her.

“Niall,” Zayn groans against his lips, pulling back to stare at him with an annoyed expression. Niall just stares back, dumbfounded, until the pretty girl pulls her t-shirt over her head and tosses it somewhere on the floor, leaving her in nothing but a black bra. “Relax, I’m not going to make you grab my boobs or anything but just touch me, yeah?” And all Niall can do is gulp because that sentence is very open-ended.

Zayn rolls her eyes again and gets back to kissing the Irish boy—wetting his lips with her tongue and nipping playfully at his skin. And Niall doesn’t even realize how hard he’s gripping her thin body until she whines and he immediately lets go.

“I’m sorry,” he says, kissing the tip of her nose earnestly.

But Zayn just shakes her head and murmurs, “No, no,” before attaching her lips to Niall’s neck. And the Irish boy has been on the receiving end of plenty of love bites and bruises but he’s sure no girl has done it with as much enthusiasm as Zayn. She’s not afraid to bite at his collarbone or lick at his raw flesh and she only grins when he says anything about it.

Niall is on the verge of a moan before his friend naturally rolls her hips and the sound escapes him in a strained tone. Zayn pulls back and stares at him momentarily—seemingly contemplating something—before her eyes drop to where her hips are straddling his crotch. Realization washes over her in that moment and the blush that creeps up her neck is absolutely stunning. It’s not exactly like they’ve had sex before and perhaps thinking about what she’s doing to the Irish boy is making her feel guilty.

Either way, Niall is half-hard in his jeans, and it’s for her—it’s for his best friend who is absently pouting again as she thinks things through. And she’s fucking gorgeous, no one can deny that, and he finds himself running his fingers up and down her torso—tracing the edge of her bra and running back down to meet her hips, his finger exploring the waistband of her pajama shorts.

Zayn just stares at Niall who pretends not to notice until he finally asks “Can I get you off?”

Zayn’s eyes widen briefly but she more-or-less remains composed.

“You know,” Niall shrugs, “Might help you forget about your homesickness?” Everything is a question when he’s speaking to her and right now he can’t believe he’s actually asking her this.

Much to Niall’s surprise, Zayn nods. Her lips part briefly as if she might speak but no words come out and the Irish boy takes the opportunity to flip them over and straddle her for a moment, kissing her again. He moves down her body, leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses from her collarbone to her breasts to the tattoo on her hip. He carefully pulls her shorts down but Zayn is eager and kicks them the rest of the way off with her feet.

All that’s left are her black underwear and Niall swallows around his nerves as he stares at the way they cling so beautifully to her hips. He runs a gentle finger along the hem and Zayn is quickly whimpering, her chest rising and falling quicker than normal. Niall looks up in concern and the raven-haired girl tries and fails to roll her eyes, “Oh, just get on with it, Niall. You’re already a fucking tease and you haven’t even got your tongue on me yet.”

“Wow, you talk like a real lady.”

Zayn laughs but kicks Niall’s shoulder, “Oh shut up.”

Niall takes the opportunity to spread the pretty girl’s legs, all the while being as gentle as he can. Zayn might just have the most beautiful skin he’s ever seen, and he spends more time than what is completely necessary kissing the insides of her thighs. He eventually makes his way to where his friend needs him the most, and just his soft breath against the black material makes her shiver. He grabs lightly at the material on her hips and begins pulling her underwear down, smiling a little when Zayn raises her thighs to make the process easier for him.

Once they’re off—and tossed on the floor amongst the raven-haired girl’s other various items—he pushes Zayn’s thighs further apart and leans in, breathing over her clit and licking his lips. She’s so fucking wet already and he figures he’s taken long enough to get to this point. He sets a soft kiss to her before slipping out his tongue, kitten licking at her clit and registering the sharp breath the girl takes. He moves his tongue a little quicker—circling and pushing it until Zayn moans and _god_ , she’s loud.

“Jesus,” she grunts out, “How did you get so good at this?”

Niall just nips playfully at the inside of her thigh, grinning up at Zayn and her obvious breathlessness, “Barely even touched you yet.” And he takes that as his own cue to fit his lips around the raven-haired girl’s cunt and suck until she moans again. Her hands brush over his hair but she must stop herself from grabbing at him—this isn’t a position they’re normally in, after all.

And when Niall slips that first finger in he’s sure he’s never heard anything like it. Quiet one his ass—Zayn’s got quite the mouth on her. He circles his finger and crooks it at an appropriate angle until the raven-haired girl is pushing back against him. He holds her still and adds another—circling and curling at an increasingly faster pace until he figures he might as well get his tongue in there as well. Zayn cries out as Niall continues to speed up and lick at her clit at the same time, and the Irish boy has to keep a firm hand on her hip to stop her from squirming around too much. But it doesn’t take long for her to come after that, and her voice his hoarse when she chokes out a little sob and a moan. Niall works her through it with his fingers and soon after licks at Zayn until she’s oversensitive and whimpering.

“Alright?” Niall asks, slightly breathless himself and sure that his cheeks are flushed.

Zayn grins, “More than,” and beckons him to join her at the top of the sofa. Niall smiles and gladly cuddles against her, kissing her cheek again like she’s a lovely thing he can only admire from afar—never mind the fact that he was just between her legs. Zayn sighs against him and runs her fingers through his hair, giving him that look she tends towards with those pretty hazel eyes.

“Mm, stay with me all night?” she suggests, sinking into his little kisses and biting at her bottom lip.

Niall nods, “Course, but first I gotta take care of something.” He’s been trying to ignore his own needs here, but—“I’m so fucking hard,” and he almost has to laugh.

Zayn blushes furiously and chews on her bottom lip before asking, “Can I get you off?” And Niall has to bury his face in his shoulder to keep from coming right there.


End file.
